The Error Of Us

Chapter Two: Controlled Variables

"Or," Declan leaned forward, elbows on knees, "we could actually collaborate. Radical concept, I know."

Mara's phone buzzed again. A new email from the department head:

[RE: NSF Joint Presentation]
Per committee request, attached is the revised rubric emphasizing interdisciplinary synergy. Preliminary scores will reflect teamwork metrics.

She nearly choked on her latte. "They're grading us on teamwork?"

Declan peeked at her screen and whistled. "Guess we'll have to play nice." His knee bumped hers under the desk. "Think you can manage that?"

9:58 AM - Next Morning

Mara adjusted her blazer for the twelfth time outside Conference Room B. She'd slept exactly ninety-three minutes, rehearsed her sections until her throat burned, and still felt dangerously unprepared.

Declan arrived precisely two minutes late, looking disgustingly well-rested in a navy button-down that made his eyes look even greener. He carried two travel mugs.

"Peace offering," he said, handing her one. "Triple espresso. You look like you need it."

She grudgingly accepted. "If you sabotage me in there—"

"Relax." His hand brushed her lower back as he opened the door, sending an unwelcome shiver up her spine. "Just follow my lead."

The room held twelve faculty members, including their advisors. Dr. Chen smiled encouragingly; Dr. Hayes looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Dean Matthews steepled his fingers. "Drs. Whitmore and Sinclair. We're eager to see how your competing approaches might... complement each other."

Presentation: Minute 7

Mara's laser pointer trembled slightly as she explained their neural mapping technique. "As you can see, this novel approach reduces computational load by—"

"Forty-two percent," Declan smoothly interjected when she hesitated. He took the clicker from her, fingers lingering. "Which Dr. Sinclair achieved by brilliantly adapting quantum annealing principles to our field."

She blinked. That wasn't in their divided script.

When she shot him a questioning look, he just winked.

Q&A: Minute 23

Dr. Hayes leaned forward. "Dr. Whitmore, how do you reconcile your stochastic models with Dr. Sinclair's deterministic framework?"

Declan opened his mouth, but Mara cut in. "Actually, we've found they're two expressions of the same underlying—"

"Precisely," Declan finished for her. "As Dr. Sinclair's groundbreaking paper last year demonstrated..."

Their back-and-forth became a tennis match of finishing each other's sentences, citing each other's work, even passing the microphone with unsettling coordination. Mara noticed several committee members exchanging impressed nods.

Post-Presentation

In the hallway, Mara finally exhaled. "We didn't completely embarrass ourselves."

Declan loosened his tie. "You were amazing." The uncharacteristic sincerity threw her off balance.

She busied herself with her notes. "You didn't have to praise my work like that."

"Why not? It's good science." He stepped closer, voice dropping. "And for the record? I've always thought your quantum annealing paper was brilliant."

Mara's breath caught. That paper had been her passion project—the one everyone else called "too niche."

Before she could respond, Dr. Chen emerged. "The committee would like to see you both. Now."

Dean's Office - 11:47 AM

Dean Matthews smiled. "We've never done this before, but the vote was unanimous. The NSF has approved a special dual award." He slid two envelopes across the desk. "Congratulations."

Mara's hands shook as she opened hers. $1.5 Million - Joint Research Grant - Sinclair/Whitmore Team

Declan's shoulder pressed against hers as they both stared at the paperwork. "Looks like we're stuck together, partner."

Mara should have been furious. Should have protested sharing funding, credit, a lab. Instead, a traitorous warmth spread through her chest.

"Temporary arrangement," she muttered.

Declan's grin said he knew better.

Lab - 9:32 PM

They'd worked straight through dinner, drafting their first joint research timeline. Mara stretched, her sweater slipping off one shoulder.

Declan's gaze caught on the exposed skin before quickly looking away. "We should celebrate. There's that new Thai place—"

"Absolutely not." She stood abruptly, knocking over an empty coffee cup. "This is professional. We'll keep things strictly—"

"Academic?" He rose too, crowding her against the lab bench. The scent of his cologne—warm amber and something indefinably Declan—wrapped around her. "Tell me you didn't feel that today. The way we just... fit."

Mara's pulse hammered. Every rational thought screamed to push him away. Instead, her fingers curled into his shirt.

The lab door swung open.

"Am I interrupting?" Dr. Hayes raised an eyebrow at their proximity.

Mara sprang back like she'd been burned.

Declan just smiled. "Not at all. Dr. Sinclair was just explaining her theory on..." He glanced at the whiteboard. "...synaptic pruning?"

Hayes looked skeptical. "The NSF wants preliminary data by Friday." He left without closing the door.

Silence stretched between them.

Mara busied herself with her laptop. "We should focus on the work."

Declan caught her wrist. "Mara." Just her name, soft and questioning.

She closed her eyes. "This is a terrible idea."

"Most of my best ideas are." His thumb brushed her racing pulse point.

When she didn't pull away, he leaned in slowly—giving her every chance to stop him.

She didn't.